


a new beginning

by humanveil



Series: and whoever calls the night a blanket, has never felt the cold [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Hogwarts Letters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 04:59:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11913723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil
Summary: Severus watches, waits. Time passes in a blur, his only company the falling snow outside, the soft ticking of the clock that hangs on the wall.And then, finally –finally– a tap at the window.





	a new beginning

Severus sits on the chair nearest to the window, his knees drawn to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. His mother had draped an old, moth-eaten blanket around him when she’d come down that morning, and he uses it to ward off the cold, the scratchy fabric resting beneath his chin.

His temple pulses with a faint headache, the pain a result of a night without sleep. He’d tried to, of course, but rest wouldn’t come. His mind would only focus on one thing, could only think of what today means.

When it had become apparent that trying to sleep was futile, he’d made his way downstairs in the early hours of the morning, when the sky was still pitch black and the air still icy. He’d been careful not to make a sound as he’d settled in his spot, his eyes glued to window, to the crack between the curtains. He’d sat there and watched, waited. Had seen the sky lighten, had seen the snow fall and coat the roads outside, bright and pure in the early hours, the white not yet tainted by the filth of Spinner’s End.

Now, he sits there still.

He plays with his empty cup, the item leftover from when Eileen had forced him to eat despite the bundle of nerves that sit in the pit of his stomach. He can hear her in the kitchen going about her business, the soft clanging of utensils a distant comfort as he continues to stare.

His father hadn’t come home the night before, but Severus doesn’t mind. Truthfully, he considers Tobias’ absence a bit of a birthday present, thinks it’s better for everyone if he stays away. After all, he’s not going to be pleased with what today means.

Reaching a hand forward, Severus wipes at the moisture that has started to gather, the window covered in a murky grey. Outside is distorted by the mist, but it’s not bad enough to cause a real problem. He can still see, will still be able to hear the tapping.

His gaze flicks to the other side of the sitting room as Eileen enters, the door squeaking shut behind her. She shakes her head at him, the gesture one of fond exasperation.

“You should have slept,” she says, placing her tea on the mantle before crouching in front of the fireplace. The wood she’d found outside is damp, but with the help of her wand, she gets the fire going eventually. “It’s still early.”

Severus sighs softly as the flames come to life, the heat a welcome sensation. “What if it doesn’t come?” he asks, looking up at his mother. His bottom lip is held between his teeth, a hint of worry written across his face.

Eileen sighs, settling down on the seat across from him. “It will,” she assures him, her bony hands cradling a cup of tea. She brings the chipped mug to her lips, lets the steam warm her face. “You are a wizard, Severus. I promise you that.”

Severus hums, but the worry remains. The clock on the wall says it’s half past six, and Severus is certain the letter should have come by now.

He fidgets in his seat, unable to sit still as his apprehension grows. Time stretches on, the seconds marked by the ticking of the clock. Severus is sure he’s going to break it, one day.

But then, finally – _finally_ – he hears it. It comes between the crackle of the flames and the tick of the clock, the tap gentle at first. He sits up, alert, but it’s Eileen who opens the window, who unties the letter from the owl.

“Go on, out!” she says when it sticks around for a treat. As the owl flies back where it came, she lets the window bang shut again. “Come here,” she beckons, retaking her seat.

Severus goes, bringing the blanket with him. He sits next to her, mouth curling to a small, satisfied grin as he sees his name on the envelope. His smile only continues to grow as Eileen opens the letter, the thick parchment inside confirming everything he’s dreamed about for the past five years.

Eileen reads it aloud, and he follows along with wide eyes, excitement bubbling in his veins. His mother pauses as she reaches the end of the page, her brow raising as she reads _Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress_.

“Didn’t seem the type,” she murmurs, turning to the list of things Severus will need for his First Year. Severus’ heart sinks a little as he sees the extent of it, but Eileen shakes her head. “Don’t worry,” she says. “We’ll manage.”

Severus nods, but his excitement has still dampened. Eileen puts the letter aside and catches his chin with her hand, her eyes dark and intense and just like his own when she looks at him.

“It will be fine,” she tells him. She may have to write a letter or two, and the items will be second or third or fourth hand, but they will manage just as they always have. Eileen will make sure of it.

Severus nods again, and Eileen’s mouth tilts upward for a brief moment. Though small, the smile is one of pride.

“You will be great, Severus,” she says. “I know you will be.”

Severus’ mouth twitches, his smile bashful now. Eileen lets her hand drop away, lets him relax again.

“Now, here.” She passes him his letter, the parchment crinkling beneath his grip. “Put it somewhere safe, and I’ll take you to Diagon Alley later on in the year.”

Excitement lights Severus’ face a second time, his eyes shining in the light of the fire. He’s only been there once before, and he’d been small enough that he hardly remembers it now, but the promise of returning is just as thrilling as the prospect of Hogwarts. He stands, making his way to the stairs to hide the letter.

His mental countdown to September first has already begun.


End file.
